


Talk Later

by miera



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Aliens Make Them Do It, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-11
Updated: 2012-05-11
Packaged: 2017-11-05 03:54:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/402175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miera/pseuds/miera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were drugged, not just drunk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Talk Later

She should have been hung over. She should have had a pounding headache and been wanting to vomit up her intestines. Whatever the hell had been in the punch at the festival last night had left her completely plastered - so much that she hadn't stopped to think when she and John stumbled together into the room their hosts had assigned her, which had a conveniently large bed. She hadn't stopped to consider consequences and ramifications when one or both of them lunged and they started kissing and tearing at each other's clothes. And she would have had to be out of her mind with something to... well, suffice it to say, it should have been killing her to move right now.

John's hands, slick with soap, slid up the front of her body, over her hipbones, making her shudder, across her belly, and then cupping her breasts, making her gasp. She leaned back against him, feeling his erection pressing into her ass and the solidness of his chest against her shoulders and God help her, she liked that feeling more than she ever thought she could.

Her head fell onto his shoulder as he toyed with her. She could just see his face in the tiny polished mirror on the wall.

"Are we still drunk?" she muttered.

John reached for the washcloth and proceeded to wipe the soap from her skin. "Pretty sure we were drugged, not just drunk."

She nodded. It was the rational conclusion. Otherwise neither of them would ever have breached the professional wall that kept them from acting on various... impulses.

Alien drugs made them do it, Elizabeth thought inanely as the washcloth tickled her stomach. She squirmed, John moaned, and then he pushed her forward and vanished from the mirror. She leaned against the table that held the water and soap provided for them to clean up as John crouched down and began washing her legs. She'd never been bathed quite like this before - not in a shower or a bathtub, but standing freely in the middle of a room where, actually, anyone could walk in.

His calloused hands skimming over her skin felt incredible. John groped her ass affectionately as he worked his way first down the back of her legs and then up the front, from her ankles until he was stroking the insides of her thighs.

As he cleaned the soap off, she turned to face him. "Sober now, though?"

He nodded. "Sober now." He knelt, his palms splayed against her thighs, which were spread apart slightly for balance, even though she was leaning against the table. John looked up at her, his eyes dark and hungry. "You want to stop?"

Every fiber of her being screamed an answer. She'd been wanting this too long, and she guessed he had too.

"Talk later?" she asked instead, her fingers running through his hair.

He smirked. "Later." Then she tugged his head forward and he went willingly.


End file.
